It Pays to Advertise

Rodney Martin: Listen, Father, I want to get married.

Cyrus Martin: Married? You don't actually mean that you want to marry this, er chorus girl, do you?

Rodney Martin: She isn't a chorus girl, Father. She's the star.

Cyrus Martin: I don't care what she is.

Rodney Martin: Well now wait a minute. Let's get this straight; I don't want to marry that girl.

Cyrus Martin: No? Well, then who is the girl? Who is she?

Rodney Martin: The girl?

Cyrus Martin: Why, certainly - the girl. You're not going to marry a polo pony, are you? Who is the little, gurgling, blue-eyed fool?

Rodney Martin: Well, now Father, she isn't a fool and she doesn't gurgle. Her name is Mary Grayson.

Cyrus Martin: What! My secretary?

Rodney Martin: Yes, Sir.

Cyrus Martin: I won't permit it.

Rodney Martin: No?

Cyrus Martin: No, Sir. I'll disinherit you and I'll fire her. You can starve together!

Rodney Martin: I knew you'd be reasonable about it! Good old Dad.

Cyrus Martin: Get out!

Rodney Martin: And never darken your door again, I know. But look Father, you can't do this to me.

Cyrus Martin: No? What are you going to do about it?

Rodney Martin: Well, I'll, er, get a job.

Cyrus Martin: Why, you don't even know what the word means.

Rodney Martin: Maybe I'll look it up.

Cyrus Martin: That'd even be too much work for you.

Rodney Martin: Maybe I'd get my secretary to do it.

Cyrus Martin: Get out!